


Wonderboy

by Tsume_Yuki



Category: Naruto, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: Don’t copy to another site, Gen, I make no promises on quality of fic people, In which Kakashi is reincarnated, Kakashi isn't getting paid at all, Mineta Minoru is replaced by everyone's favourite pervert, Shouta doesn't get paid enough to put up with his shit, that's Kakashi if you didn't realise
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:44:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22230727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tsume_Yuki/pseuds/Tsume_Yuki
Summary: Who knew some dimensions had actual child labour laws?In which Kakashi is reborn, the Hero Commission doesn’t put all their eggs in one Hawks shaped basket and Shouta isn't getting paid enough to deal with this shit.Otherwise known as Kakashi in 1A.
Relationships: Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Hatake Kakashi, Tamaki Keigo | Hawks & Hatake Kakashi, Todoroki Shouto & Hatake Kakashi
Comments: 501
Kudos: 3375
Collections: Home of Magnificent Fanfiction, Mha heart mah soul, Nothing But that Good Shit Here, Reincarnation transmigration and crossovers., Stories That Are Cool





	1. In which Wonderboy is introduced and Shota is not impressed.

“Where is the Wonderboy, anyway?”

Leaning against the side of the wall, Hatake Kakashi tilts his head, lips pursed beneath his mask. The nickname is… less than ideal. But he’s only got himself to blame for that, he supposes. No, wait, he’d been too influenced by Naruto. So, it’s his most-unpredictable student that’s at fault for this one. And maybe the thought of Obito (the old Obito, the one he’d idolised) and Rin had impacted things too. 

How was he supposed to know this society would differ from Konoha? Oh, he’s a genius, but he’d banked a little too much on the people here following the same thought-process as the upper-echelons as Konoha. While the Hero Association may be very similar to how to old elders acted… the ones who ultimately gave out the hero licences weren’t. 

‘Not until you’re eighteen’. A novel experience for someone who’d become a ninja at five.

Upon awakening in this world in a newly orphaned body that’d been the spitting image of his last one, Kakashi had looked for what his future could be. Here there were no ninjas, murder of all kinds was frowned upon (a startling thought for a life-long assassin), and heroes were idolised to the point it was a full-time job. It’d been like Naruto had taken up residency on his shoulders the second it’d clicked, whispering a constant ‘do it do it do it’ in that raspy, foxy tone of his.

So, Kakashi had looked into it. He needed to graduate through the schooling system. Fair enough; he’d powered through both elementary and middle school in his first year, finishing the curriculum half a year before he turned five. Only… only the government hadn’t known what to do with him. Not a clue. Apparently, there had been (and still was) an age-limit on enrolling in hero courses due to the sheer demands it placed upon its students (once again, a novelty for him). He’d been turned away, told to come back when he was a little older. Maybe to put some time into completing a high-school education.

By the age of seven, Kakashi had a degree in mathematics and cognitive science.

They still wouldn’t let him join up. However, by that point, they seemed to realize ignoring him or redirecting him wasn’t going to solve their problem. He’d been handed off to the Hero Association for what they’d titled ‘pre-hero course training’ and that was that.

To say he was highly over qualified for the UA Hero Course would be an understatement at this point.

Oh well. At least this dimension also had pornographic literature too. Even if there was no Icha Icha, some of the books weren’t that far off.

“Hatake-kun, why are you hiding in the corridor?” Blinking the sole eye he allows the world to see, Kakashi turns his attention to the little… rodent that will be his acting superior. Headmaster. Whatever.

“Maa, they’re having fun gossiping and I crossed a black cat on my way here; best to not tempt fate, nee?” The look he gets from this comment is glorious.

“Inside. Now.”

“Maa, maa. Whatever you say, Nezu-dono.”

* * *

He’s a brat. That’s Shota’s first thought. Hatake Kakashi is something of an urban myth among the long-serving staff of UA. It’s not that he’s the first underaged kid to apply for the hero course, nor is he the first underaged kid to do so with his middle school degree to back him up. He is, however, the first under five to have done so. The first to come with an extensive resume from five different martial artists which had pretty much amounted to ‘we don’t have anything to teach the kid’. The first to go away, slaughter the high school curriculum and gain two degrees within a time that’s unheard of among children not blessed with powerful intelligence-based quirks. A natural genius so blatantly brilliant that it’s unnatural.

It’s a bloody good thing the kid wants to be a hero and not a villain. After all, there’s no age limit on becoming one of them.

None of that changes the fact the kid has the most ridiculous excuses, that he walks around reading porn in broad daylight. It doesn’t change the fact he’s three hours late.

“Where have you been.” Shota seethes, watching the kid snap his book shut and pocket it. What small slither of his face he allows people to see (a single grey eye and the patch of skin that surrounds it) is near unreadable.

“Maa, I was helping a little old lady carry her groceries, but then she realised she’d forgotten her pickled onions, so I went back to the store to pick them up, but then the store was out, so I had to go further afield, which is when a villain decided-”

“Stop. Talking.” Hatake’s mouth snaps shut, his visible eye closing in an irritating curve of happiness and hands buried in deep pockets. His whole posture screams relaxed. If Shota hadn’t seen him slaughter the entire set of graduating third years, he might have been fooled by the kid’s non-threatening body-language. But no, the Hero Association have thrown their weight behind this kid, proclaimed him the next All Might. They’d been quick to drop Hawks as their golden-boy once it became apparent just how very… good this kid is. He wonders if the winged hero holds any bitterness towards Hatake.

“Just get inside and do what you’ve been told to do.”

“Assessing potential students, right?” Cocking his head to a side, Hatake runs a hand through his hair, changing his mind at the last moment to rub at the back of his skull. “Maa, are you sure I’m the right guy for the job?”

“You’ve been trying to enter the hero course for a decade,” Shota stresses, his eyes finding the skeletal form of All Might hunched over a monitor as they walk into the observation room, “you must have some idea of what we’re looking for by now.”

“But what if I only care for the traits I think a hero should have, not the government mandated ones?” God, Shota is praying this brat isn’t in his class. If there is any mercy in the world, he’ll be spared this brat’s presence.

The fact he walks along beside him now seems to indicate this won’t be the case.

“I don’t care. You don’t get the final say anyway.” Hatake hums, fingers itching towards the pocket he’d stashed the porn in and Shota levels him with a look that promises death if he completes that action. Still, Hatake hesitates for a second before holding his hands up in surrender.

“Don’t antagonise, got it.” He snaps off a mock salute that makes Shota want to snap his neck. Figuratively. The brat.

Hatake saunters into the room, dropping into the chair before the monitors. He makes sure to roll his shoulders back into the cushioned material, fingers drumming against the arms as he waits for the show to start.

“So, this is the wonderboy, is it?” Hizashi muses, squatting down to stare right into Hatake’s face. Hatake stares right back before he giggles, fanning his face and looking away.

“Maa, I’m flattered, but the age gap.” The absolute shit.

Hizashi full out squawks, Nemuri breaks out into hysterics and All Might just looks utterly flustered. Ridiculous. The Hero Association’s ‘Wonderboy’ is a little fucker and they’re gonna have to build a tolerance up to his little tricks quick. Otherwise he’ll spend the majority of his time at UA pushing all their buttons.

“I told you to shut up, Hatake.”

“Mmm.” The boy makes no sound other than that low confirmation, but the amused curve of eye indicates he feels his work is already done here.

God, these next three years cannot pass quick enough.

* * *

“Maa, I’m not really supposed to be doing this,” Kakashi muses, scratching as his chin as he remains seated on the captured criminal. Technically he’s not broken the law, he hasn’t used a quirk, after all. But the police are still gonna be prickly about it. As they have been for the other three-hundred and sixty-two incidents like this that he’s been involved in. Hey, it’s not his job they’re slow on the uptake and poor at patrolling. Honestly, they’ve had these quirks popping up for generations and they’re nowhere near the brutal efficiency that Konoha had. Then again, Konoha had carte blanche on all things that happened in the walls and if they civilians didn’t like it… well, they had to lump it. Things are different here, there’s far more… freedoms in certain areas. And still they wouldn’t let him tear through the hero-course as he has done everything else. Ridiculous.

“Hatake. Why am I not surprised.” Tanema, having finished climbing out of his cruiser, folds his arms and stares down at his seated form. Kakashi only grins back.

“Maa, citizen’s arrest. No quirks were used, barring the detainee’s, of course. I have my first day of school today but, being on the hero course, I of course couldn’t ignore a call for help. To do so would be un-heroic, nee?”

“Just… just get going. I’ll be by with the usual forms for you to fill in later.”

“Ja-nee, thanks, Tanema-kun!”

“I’m thirty years your senior, brat!” Kakashi ignores him, hopping off the downed criminal and offering the woman he’d helped a little salute. She stares but then so do a lot of people. It’s his face or, rather, how much of it he has covered. 

Giving a little wave, Kakashi plants both hands in his pockets and continues his slow meander down the street, the road awash with traffic and pedestrians. Yes, he did have a class to get to. And now that it’s been approximately forty-five minutes since school started, he can show.

Got to be early for the first day, no?

The look that Aizawa shoots him as he strolls out onto the open field does, in no way, look appropriately appreciative of his early status. In fact, judging by the ugly death glare and snarl, Kakashi would even go so far as to say the man’s upset with him. Huh. Clearly the Hero Commission hadn’t gotten around to telling the UA staff about his little... quirks (hehehe). That, or they’d assumed he’d be respectful enough to acknowledge school times. Which, ha. They’ve made him wait long enough; now, it’s their turn.

“Hatake. Nice of you to join us.”

Nineteen heads of various colours (and species, Kakashi’s amused to notice) swivel around to take him in. With the slight scuffs on his trousers and blazer, tie nowhere in sight and his mask pulled up and over his face, Kakashi rather gets the feeling they’re very much unimpressed. One of the students (glasses and engine legs; someone with connections to Team Idaten given his face) makes a noise rather like a tea kettle. While Kakashi would love to peg him as the Gai of the class… well, there will only ever be on Gai in his mind.

That doesn’t mean he won’t wind the kid up for the entertainment value.

“-sheer disrespect afforded to this institution-”

Kakashi zones out of his words, inspecting the array of students that will be his classmates (he’s in Aizawa’s class; isn’t his teacher so lucky to have such a wonderful, prodigal student, nee?) as they continue to stare at him in blatant disbelief.

“-Sensei! If Hatake-san has missed the vast majority of his quirk assessment tests, does that mean he shall score last?” Quirk assessment test? Oh! It must be just like the bell test, only without any bells in sight. And nearly seven times the number of students to a single teacher. Ouch. Kakashi would hate to be in his shoes. Another good thing about this world; you won’t be forced into teaching by a benevolent dictator who is ‘only doing this for your own good I swear to Hashirama, Kakashi, if you don’t pass this lot then-’

“As much as I would love to throw Hatake out on his ass, I’m not allowed to expel the kid that has held the entrance exam record for the past decade.”

There’s a momentary pause as the rest of the students absorb that information; he can almost see the cogs in their brains whirling as they look him over and absorb the word ‘decade’.

“Dec- wait, Aizawa-sensei, that can’t be-”

“It is right. I checked. Don’t let his attitude fool you; this brat shattered the entrance exam record before he turned six. It’s only because of child labour laws that the Hero Commission didn’t shove him through UA and spit him out in a pint-sized hero costume.”

They goggle. They’re teenagers, it’s what they do best.

Behind the mask, Kakashi grins, offering them a jaunt wave in greeting.

That’s when the ashy blond explodes.


	2. In which Hawks makes an appearance as quick as his reputation claims him to be.

“-all in all, a successful first day!”

Hawks dearly, dearly wishes to bury his head in his hands. But he’s got a pen in one hand and some paperwork that he really should be completing in the other and he’ll be damned if the little brat who’s practically his adopted brother ruins yet another official document.

He wants to point out that Kakashi’s successfully alienated himself form all his peers, that he’s painted himself as their biggest rival and an absolute ass all at once. But the little bastard probably already knows it; he is a genius after all.

Hell, he wouldn’t be surprised to learn the kid slept through all of his classes… that or resorted to his questionable reading material. Does Hawks know it’s questionable because he’s read through some of it? Maybe so. Point stands that he really shouldn’t be devouring the contents of those books so blatantly during High School classes.

Yeah, Hawks wants to point out a lot of things. But it’s also Monday so it’s sword practice day and he’d much rather do that then try and get the very thought of ‘public relations’ through Kakashi’s head. That and-

“Alright, good to know you enjoyed yourself, Wonderboy! Let’s get going then!”

Pretending he’s as unbothered by things as Kakashi to get under the other’s skin is just as much fun. He can see why the brat does it so often.

* * *

Just like yesterday, the final member of their class strolls in late. Only… he’s three hours late today.

Eijiro, well, Eijiro goggles over the sheer balls that takes. He’d never heard of the other guy before but, an afterschool google search had let him buff up on his mysterious classmate. One Hatake Kakashi, who had indeed graduated Middle School at the age of five. He’d been allowed to take the entrance exam (probably because they thought he wouldn’t pass). Only, he had. Not that it’d been mentioned online but Aizawa-sensei had made it pretty clear he did (and top-score for a decade too; so manly!).

Kinda understandable they’d turn him away at the age of five, though why they wouldn’t let him in when he was a bit closer to High School age, Eijiro doesn’t have a clue. What he does know is the other guy’s made loads of citizen arrests to the point crime rate in his neighbourhood has dropped substantially. Sooo manly! Though he’d kinda been hoping to catch the guy and talk to him yesterday, they’d all bee shuffled off for their interview with the support department, who double checked their measurements to make sure the costumes were spot on. Another thing he can’t wait for! He’s taking his first step to heroism here, to becoming a hero just like Crimson Riot.

They’ve got maybe ten minutes of English left before they break for lunch, it probably wasn’t even worth Hatake’s time turning up in all honesty. Both he and Present Mic (they’re getting taught by heroes, how ridiculously cool is that?!) stare at each other. Though, is it a fair staring contest if one of them only has one eye on show? What’s up with Hatake’s other eye anyway? Is it to do with his quirk? Right now, he’s the only one of the class who hasn’t shown it off, thanks to his neat little dodge of the quirk assessment test.

“Maa, Present Mic-”

“Just answer the question on the board and sit down, you _Hellion_.” Eijiro doesn’t know the English that sensei has just used. In fact, the only one who does seem to be the chick that can make stuff from her body given her disapproving frown.

“Maa, sure!” Hatake approaches the board, casually selecting a stick of chalk (how old school!) and then proceeds to not only correct the sentence, but write three more in English waffle beneath it.

Right, graduated middle school at five years old; Hatake’s probably fluent in English by now. That’s how genii work, isn’t it?

The bell goes and Eijiro’s up and out of his seat, making a bee-line for Hatake because the guy’s not slipping away from his again. Not today.

“Hey man, wanna eat lunch with me today? You never really got a chance to chat with the rest of us yesterday!” Eijiro had made sure to talk to as many of his classmates as he could on his lunch break. Bakugo, the explosive one, had scoffed and stormed off on him but Eijiro will get there. He’s probably got a gooey centre in there deep down… _real_ deep down.

Hatake hums, head tilting to a side and sending that wild silver hair flopping over the headband that covered his eye. They’re about the same height but, given the way Hatake slouches, Eijiro seems taller. He can live with that.

“Maa, sure. Need to learn everyone’s names at some point.”

“Well, I can certainly help you there!” Eijiro chirps, throwing one arm across Hatake’s shoulders to begin hustling him to the lunch room, the other hand going from the handle of his backpack. “I’ve got nearly everyone in class memorised and I managed to talk to nearly half of them yesterday lunch alone. I’m your man for socialising.”

Hatake blinks, or maybe he winks, it’s hard to tell when there’s only one eye to look at. But Eijiro will assume it’s a blink unless he says otherwise.

Huh, he rather gets the feeling Hatake and him will be getting along soon enough. High school man, it feels good. So manly!

* * *

Watching the redhead (Kirishima Eijiro, quirk: hardening, 170cm tall with nearly invisible black roots in his spikey hair) gawk at his empty plate, his masked face, and back again is just as satisfying in this world as it was in his previous one. Hell, the only people who’ve seen his face here are Hawks and Recovery Girl. Hawks because they’ve been ‘raised together’ (as much as being put through gruelling training regimes and relaxing when they can could be classified as being ‘raised together’) and Recovery Girl because you don’t fuck with medics. Tsunade had been sure to beat that lesson into him long ago and it has stuck.

“Wha- what the hell! How did you do that so quick?!” Kirishima chokes, pointing his chopsticks right at Kakashi and all he can do is grin, single visible eye curving up in his signature ‘I’m happy to be fucking with you’ expression. Maa, kids; they’re a joy, really. Aizawa is going about this teaching business all wrong. He needs to take a page out of Kakashi’s book; throw them into a situation they think they can’t handle and force the teamwork they’ll need to get out of it. 

That’s another thing he has beef with in this universe; where is the emphasis on teamwork? A great deal of these heroes would be so much more efficient if they decided to work together to get the job done and there are plenty of quirks that would combo nicely. He’d even be willing to give them pointers on how to do it properly. 

“I was hungry,” Kakashi chimes, ruffling the thick bangs that fall over his ears. He’ll need a trim soon, the usual kunai cut because, while he might have lived here for a decade and a half now, he’s still not capable of letting someone get that close to his neck with a bladed weapon. 

Hair-dressing scissors are a weapon and he won’t be convinced otherwise. 

“Soo manly! I didn’t even see you move! So, a speed quirk?” Kirishima cocks his head to a side, a few grains of rice stuck to his cheeks and he’s a hell of a lot cuter than genin Sakura intentionally tried to be; the brat in front of him is utterly oblivious to how adorable he looks too. Naaw. His friendly face will definitely win him a lot of fans when his career kicks off. 

“Maa, something like that,” Kakashi muses, waving the question away with a single, gloved palm, his pale fingers a shocking contrast to the dark leather. 

“Sweet! We’ve got Hero Classes after lunch, so I guess you’ll be able to show it all off there then!”

The support department have done a good job with his costume. Not that they had much of a choice, what with the way he’s haunted UA’s staff for a decade. He does wonder if his outfit was made by the students who’d been around when he completed the entrance exam, or if it was done by the most recent batch. Not that it really matters; he’ll probably find six or seven things wrong with it once they get going. He’d had to make adjustments to his ANBU uniform too.

Pulling up the final arm guard, Kakashi stares in the mirror, humming. It’s almost like looking straight into the past; his ANBU gear with tanto sling over his shoulders, Inu mask balanced on one side of his head but not covering the little slip of face he does allow those around him to see.

“Done admiring yourself, Hatake?” One of the other boys teases and Kakashi hums, pressing his hands to his cheeks and swaying slightly,

“Maa, just making sure it captures my natural charisma.” He flutters his lashes, gendering a few short chuckles from some of the others, disgruntled looks for another batch of them. While part of him had considered snooping, finding out just what the test is… well, if he can’t best fifteen-year-old brats when flying by the seat of his pants, he might as well just throw in the towel right away. Plus, it’s always funny to watch them try to figure out if he knows nothing today after knowing everything previously. The way their jaws hang down is always blatantly amusing.

“Well, this is it, gentlemen! Our first true step in hero training, our first leap towards realising our goals!” The one with the glasses that had shown interest in ripping into him this morning leaps up onto one of the benches, chopping the air with his arm as he continues a motivational speech. Kakashi looks, but he can’t see any paper poking out of his pocket. Made up on the spot then? Kid must be sharp to have that ability. Though it’s nowhere near as charismatic as what Naruto could manage. Man, now that kid could talk the talk; he’d have been suited to this world a hell of a lot better than Kakashi but what can ya’ do? Only try his best to live up to Obito (old Obito, Obito before Madara got his claws into him), Minato-sensei and Naruto’s ideals.

“You there! We are leaving now!”

Head tilting his head to a side, Kakashi jams a pinkie into his ear and stares blankly.

“Maa, did you say something?”

* * *

To begin with, Momo had been… disappointed to be paired alongside Hatake. True, his background pointed towards an ideal partnership between the two of them, but what she’d seen of his attitude so far had proven… lacklustre. She’s also less than pleased to have been selected for the villain side of things and, to top it all off, they’re up against Todoroki. She’d seen him at the placement exams, knows what he can do. While Hatake… he’s a mystery to her.

Or, he was.

In the ten minutes of time they’d been given to prepare, he’d asked for her ideas, listened to them and spoken only to improve the plan. When she’d suggested he deal with Todoroki given the poor match-up between the son of the Number Two and herself, Hatake had nodded, stating it wouldn’t be a problem and that she could count on him. And when asked-

“Those who break the rules are trash. But those who abandon their teammates are worse than trash. You can count on me, Yaoyo-chan~” The little eye-smile that’d followed had sufficiently distracted her enough that she didn’t think to question how exactly Hatake would deal with Todoroki.

As it turns out, she successfully predicted Todoroki’s opening move of an ice-blast, one so cold the thermal boots she’d created them both do nothing. Luckily enough, Hatake is quick. Too quick.

She’s in his arms and he’s standing on the side of the wall as if it’s the floor, looking utterly unbothered about keeping both himself and her from falling victim to gravity. She can feel the tight abs she’s pressed against tensing and it is just a little distracting.

“Maa, better go welcome Ice Ice Baby, right?”

It’s Momo’s job to wait with the bomb and deal with Shoji, should manage to slip past Hatake and Todoroki. That would be the wise thing to do, to send a teammate on ahead. But, given the conditions that they’re in… Momo can’t help but wonder if Todoroki had expected to one-shot this and power through.

So, she sets her traps and she listens on the comms as Hatake finds his opponent.

“A_ little cold for ice-armour, isn’t it?” _Something that sounds like creaking ice and the temperature drops a little more.

“_Maa, so your quirk usage is good, Icy-kun. Still, less one. Taijutsu._” A series of successive thumps so quick they seem to blend into one sound and a pained gasp that’s not smooth enough to have come from Hatake’s lungs.

“_Lesson two, don’t let the enemy get behind you. ONE THOUSAND YEARS OF DEATH!”_

One thou- What on earth was that?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)


	3. In which Kakashi schools Todoroki as 1A watches in shock and sympathy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Was it a bit unfair using the 1000 years of death on Todoroki? Perhaps. But the brat had thrown all concept of teamwork out the window and Kakashi wanted to make a point. Aggressively.

There is a collective cringe in the viewing area and All Might cannot blame his students in the slightest, his own buttocks clenching without thought. Truly, Hatake Kakashi is a ruthless creature. There’s silence among them now, all seventeen sets of eyes staring at the screen, waiting for something, anything to happen. 

(Young Todoroki got launched away by that attack and Hatake holds his position, pointer and middle fingers still extended and good god, he shall have to speak with the boy about a hero’s image in public and what not to do. Because that, that falls in the ‘not to do’ pile).

“All Might-sensei?” One of his charges questions him by name alone, no extra words need to be said after what they have just witnessed. Young Todoroki’s teammate has stopped, as if sending that something substantial has taken place in the same way young Yaoyorozu has stilled and mouthed the name of Hatake’s... attack back to herself. 

“Is Hatake allowed to do that?” Another question and technically...

“I... I did say to use everything at your disposal... I shall be clearer on what is acceptable next time,” All Might concludes, grimacing and already predicting that absolute rollicking Aizawa-kun will give him for this. Teaching is hard; he should have read up more before the term started. It’s not like he hadn’t had the time. 

“Look, Todoroki’s managed to get up!” There’s a small, hesitant round of applause, most like out of respect for their... injured classmate. 

If young Todoroki’s expression had been closed off before, it’s utterly locked up now. Oh dear. 

Before the boy can make another sweeping hand gesture to bury Hatake in what will undoubtedly be an avalanche of righteous fury, his opponent moves. Almost quicker than All Might can see, the boy throws a handful of glimmering something. When everything stills again, young Todoroki is pinned by an ingenious combination of capture tape and- and are those shuriken? What on earth?

Young Yaoyorozu and Hatake win. It’s no surprise after that stellar performance but All Might cannot help but feel a little... off step by it all. Still, it is heartwarming to watch the students corral around young Todoroki and offer their heartfelt condolences; the boy doesn’t seem to know how to respond to it all.

All Might doesn’t miss the fact he never once gives Hatake his back again for the rest of the lesson. 

* * *

“Thanks to a certain brat,” Shota pauses, flicking a glance to the person in question before he continues, “sexual harassment training is on the agenda today.” 

The little shit that’s caused all this actually gasps, an expression that scream mock-offence with a hand to his chest and, if Shota could actually see his face, he’s sure the brat’d be mouthing ‘me?’. The innocence in that single eye is so fake Shota, who speaks three languages fluently, cannot even begin to find a way to express how much he wants to physically strangle the brat right now. 

He acknowledges Todoroki’s exemplary poker face, the awkward shuffling of the rest of the class, and then ploughs on through his quick twenty-minute lecture. 

After all, the brats need to pick a class president today. 

* * *

If the class didn’t know how to respond to him before, they’ve got no clue whatsoever now. It hilarious and Kakashi is living for this. 

After Aizawa had finished up, with one last glare in his direction, their sensei had clambered back into his sleeping bag, announcing the class president issue as if it were an afterthought. 

(And that lecture, huh? Jiraiya would probably weep in this universe. That, or spend the vast majority of his time breaking out of prison. Would that have made him a criminal then? Or would he actually gain the label villain?)

“Maa, if you’re all going to vote, you should at least explain what you’re going to offer the class in your role as president,” Kakashi interrupts, watching as Engine Legs and Yaoyo-chan twist your look at him. Ah, the judgemental eyes his former partner wears indicate she’s had the ‘Thousand Years’ explained to her.

“Hatake-san is quite correct!” Engine-Legs declares, chopping the air with his palm and Kakashi leans back and away as the kid invades his space. “Please, Hatake-san, volunteer us an example of what you shall be offering the class should you acquire the role of president.”

What would he offer the class? 

Kakashi tilts his head to a side, wild fringe flopping nearly completely over his visible eye as he puts up a show of thinking. Then-

“Free porn.”

A moment of absolute nothingness and then, from the blond boy-

“Well, he’s got my vote.”

Kakashi is not named president (how tragic) by the time lunch rolls around. Instead, he collects his lunch from the Lunch Hero (piled twice as high as the day previously; Kirishima’s face shall be a picture when it all disappears in one go) and makes of a table. Only, the company that joins him is not the one he’s expecting.

Kakashi blinks, glancing up at the figure beside him but no, it is indeed Todoroki sitting to his left. Cold soba on a lunch tray and chopsticks in hand, the other teens stares at him and Kakashi stares back, unable to help the twitch of his lips when the kid starts slurping up his meal. He looks as if he’s trying to figure out a supremely difficult puzzle; Kakashi gets that look at lot, he’s well used to it. A quick illusion on everyone else that’s looking their way (no doubt waiting for some kind of brawl to break out between them) and Kakashi scarfs his food down the moment Todoroki blinks. Distantly, on the other side of the cafeteria, he can hear Kirishima roar a disbelieving ‘what the fuck’ but he’s too busy in his Western showdown.

Todoroki chews through his noodles, letting them slip back into his bowl.

“You fight well,” he states, twirling the chopsticks around in his cold noodle soup. What an awful choice for lunch. “Who trained you?”

“Maa, I’m an orphan, Todoroki-kun. All I have to my name are my dashing good looks.” Now, Kakashi would love to proclaim the boy gives him a deadpan stare, would love to say that he scoffs in disbelief. But he does neither.

Instead, Todoroki simply looks him over once, nods, and then asks, “is that why you wear the mask?” Completely serious. Wow. Just, wow. And he thought that Kakashi of old had been socially stunted.

“Ah, Todoroki-kun, I do believe this is the start of a beautiful friendship. And I do mean friendship, not rivalry. Friends who help when the other wasn’t paying attention to the class assignment, friends who will not call the other out on his bullshit. Not rivals who’ll wake the other up for a game of rock-paper-scissors at three in the morning, armed with a frying pan and pink apron.” Now that had been a weird night. He tries not to recall pre-jōnin sensei Gai; he’d had far too much time on his hands and had been far too invested in Kakashi. Which, yes, it’d helped him in the long run, but in the short run? Man, it’d been a pain.

Todoroki, bless his socially inept ways, just nods. Clearly failing to make the question of who would be doing the bullshitting in their friendship. Oh, they’ll be the perfect double act. Lovely. Perhaps that’s the reason he decides to open up. Just a little.

“When I applied for UA, the Hero Commission all but kidnapped me. I’ve been growing up in their basement every since.” And the wide-eyed look he gets for that is fucking brilliant. Oh man, this’ll never get old!

It’s ‘round about that time the siren goes off.

* * *

“Hatake.” Shota breathes. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. Opens his eyes. But no, the brat is still there. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of his trousers (and why on earth does he bandage the lower half of the legs up? Clearly something to do with movement but, for the life of him, Shota cannot find the willpower to ask), Hatake hums as he continues to inspect the area. Nevermind the fact the kids were barred from the site of the gate. Nevermind he must have slipped by security, one of whom has a god damn quirk that alerts him whenever someone’s trying to slip into a place they shouldn’t be. Admitted, Toraona hadn’t been on shift today, but he’d been pulled in by the emergency protocol.

“What happened?” Hatake asks, tilting his head to a side, approaching the very much missing gate and there’s no bullshit right now. It’s not Hatake-brat at the moment, it’s the Wonderboy that the Hero Commission have been raving about. Shota makes a quick note to get the kid set up with a hero name as soon as possible. After all, as satisfying as it’d been for the brat to be hounded by ‘Wonderboy’ for the rest of his career, it probably wouldn’t reassure the population. Not that Wonderman would be any better, but that’s for a later train of thought.

“You tell me, Hatake.”

The kid hums, squatting down beside the fence, one hand reaching out to brush at the edge where the gates used to reside. He pulls his fingers away, rubbing them against his thumb. Shota catches the slight flutter of dust rolling down from his grasp, a fine powder the likes of which Campus gates have never been exposed to during their time here.

“Maa, no member of the press would do this. If they had a quirk this powerful, they’d be making use of it. Even if they were wasting their time in the media, it’s too recognisable to be applied here; they’d have been tagged for unauthorised quirk usage for sure.” The kid sits back on his heels, legs folded and elbows resting on his thighs, sole dark eye continuing to assess his surroundings. His gaze lingers on the ground, on footprints in dirt and dust that wasn’t there this morning. “It’s not a planned security test, the atmosphere is far too tense for it and current staffing of this site indicates this is an element unknown to the school. Ergo, an infiltrator to gather information. Nobody was harmed, they slipped in with the crowd, probably in non-descript clothes given the crowd of reporters.”

Hatake tilts his head back, eyeing Shota and easily coming to the exact same conclusion Shota himself has spent his after-work hours so far building up.

“Someone is plotting and they needed information the school held to do it. Given the announcement the previous day, the hype around it, and the lack of an incident such as this in previous years, I’d gather it’s something relating to All Might.”

And there he is, their shining hope for the future.

“Good job, Kid. Now get going, you’ve got rescue training tomorrow and it’s best to be in good shape for it.”

“Maa, I had no idea you were worried about little ol’ me!” Hatake chimes, back on his feet before Shota had finished speaking but now mockingly swooning off to a side,

“And Hatake?”

He waits until the kid turns around to face him again, head cocked to the side and once again playing up his innocent act.

“As much as it pleases me to see growing friendships, don’t break Todoroki.”

A short gasp. “Why, I would never!”


	4. In which new software is incompatible with Shigaraki.exe

“Rescue training! So manly!”

Sitting back in his chair, Shouto chances a glance towards Hatake, watching. Assessing. The other had claimed himself and orphan raised by the Hero Commission, though Shouto does have a few questions about it all. His fighting techniques had been… questionable at best, though inarguably effective. He certainly shall not be giving the other his back again any time soon. Endeavour had never managed to beat a lesson into him as effectively as Hatake did in those thirty seconds they’d spent fighting. Thirty seconds in which Shouto hadn’t been able to land a single hit, hadn’t made contact once.

The day before, he’d looked upon his classmates in disdain; one had even broken a finger while using his quirk. This is what he has been trained for his whole life and then he’s suddenly up against… well, this.

No, he hadn’t felt validated until Hatake had stepped in. Because Hatake… Hatake was the closest one to him. The one who’d been trained to fight, trained for this.

That they are so very different is exceptionally strange indeed.

“You okay, Todoroki-kun?” And that the suffix, that’s strange too. Hatake’s birthday is in September (Shouto asked; that’s what friends do, isn’t it? And Hatake had said they were going to be friends, not rivals) but that is only four months earlier than his. He’s not that much younger and yet, the suffix? He doesn’t understand it, nor does he have any desire to as Fuyumi about it either. The thought of asking the Old Man doesn’t even cross his mind.

“I am fine,” Shouto states because he is. He has no injuries, he’s ready for the task at hand. Though he as never performed any rescues himself, he has been drilled in the action for long enough; it should not be beyond the scope of his ability. They are at school, so even if by some terrible happenstance it is beyond him, he shall learn and improve. He shall become everything he needs to be with his ice and his ice only. UA, it’s what he’s been training for his entire life, what he’s been working towards ever since his quirk came in. This job, this role, it’s a serious business. As is showing the Old Man he’ll become a great hero without his power.

“What the hell- Hatake! Are you reading what I think you’re reading?!” It’s the red-head with the hardening quirk, Kirishima if Shouto recalls correctly.

Turning questioning eyes on the one who sits next to him, Shouto peers over his shoulder to read the page; it’d be a fool’s errand to twist and get a look at the front cover; with all the bumps they’re going over, he’s likely to bang his head on the bench in front.

Shouto gets exactly two and a half lines in before he registers what he is reading and, for the first time in years, feels his face heat, only in a way that has nothing to do with his quirk.

“Aizawa-sensei! Hatake-san had reading material inappropriate for a hero on his person!” Iida bellows, chopping at the air, as is his usual. The whole bus bursts into a rabble of chatter and Shouto takes the opportunity to sink back into his chair, pressing his cool forearm to his forehead, doing his utmost best to beat back the flush to his face.

How had Hatake even managed to get his hands on such a book? Natsuo would be proud to own that particular piece of literature given he still gets IDed. He complains about it often enough on his rare visit to their family home.

“Maa, I’ve got a spare copy, if you would like to read it?” Hatake holds up the book in question, only for Aizawa-sensei’s scarf to snap around the raised limb.

“I’ll be taking take, Hatake.”

They arrive at USJ and are swiftly introduced to Thirteen, the space hero. Shouto has heard of him, of course, even if he doesn’t run in the same circles as Endeavour. All of the other students proceed to act as if they’re meeting their first hero, regardless of the fact their current high school experience consists of heroes working as their teachers. It doesn’t make much sense to him, but Shouto remains quiet. Perhaps its his overexposure to his father, but he has no desire to go over there and pepper Thirteen with questions. Not like Midoriya is doing anyway.

“Maa, they’re like overly excited puppies,” Hatake coos beside him, his lone eye crinkling up into a curve in a clear visual display of happiness. Shouto wonders how he manages it, to be that expressive with near the entirety of his face covered. Not one scrap of Shouto’s face is hidden by a mask, but none would ever claim him to be as expressive as Hatake is.

And that’s when the portal opens up.

* * *

Izuku huffs out a breath as he hands, managing to turn the dead drop into a half-roll in the last second. A quick glance up as the portal closes and there’s Hatake dropping in. For the first time since Izuku’s laid eyes on the guy, he’s blank. Totally, terrifyingly blank. He looks to Tsu, the other student staring back. She doesn’t appear too phased, but Izuku is an expert at reading people; she’s just like him. Shocked. Scared. Unsure.

Hatake… Hatake isn’t.

He stands before them with his shoulders straight, head tilted to a side as he assesses the situation.

“Get up. There are villains here and we need to get back to Aizawa-sensei.” Izuku scrambles to his feet, peering over the edge of the shipwrecked boat to see the other is right. There are plenty of others in the water, all looking up at them. Mentally, Izuku wheels through their options. Tsu’s quirk is more close-combat at present and, though her tongue does have the range, she cannot take on all of these at once. Likewise, he could probably cause a good shockwave with a punch, displace the water and suck the villains into the space as the water rushes to fill the hole, but that’d wreck his arm. Given what he’d seen Aizawa-sensei facing as they left…

“Midoriya. Asui. Don’t worry,” Hatake states, jumping up onto the railings to peer down at those that stand (swim) between them and safety. “I’ll protect you with my life.” That’s… that’s strangely reassuring. Not quite up there with All Might’s ‘I am here’ but it’d make a good catchphrase, reassuring the public and- and Hatake’s holding lightning in his hand. Izuku gawks, even more so when it splits off and zips down to the water. The villains never stood a chance. In a blink, they’re all floating belly up (thank god), and unconscious.

Wha-what the hell?! Hadn’t Hatake attached himself to the side of a wall to stand on it? How does that translate to electricity? Is it something more complex than that, something on an atomic level, maybe splitting and joining bonds, or-

“Midoriya. Let’s go.”

They swim. Or rather, Tsu and him swim. Hatake continues to boggle his mind by walking atop the surface of the water leaving on a little ripple beneath each step. Izuku is desperate to ask, dying to, even. It’s the most versatile quirk he’s ever seen and, as soon as they’re out of this situation, he’s going to put the whole list of questions he has down on paper so he won’t forget any.

“Just ask, Midoriya-kun.”

“What is your quirk? I’ve never seen anything like it before and it seems to have so many different applications that I’m struggling to wrap my head around it.” Pulling himself out of the water, Izuku shakes his head, water droplets flying everywhere.

“Maa, it’s called Rebirth Recall.”

“Rebirth- what?”

“I remember everything about my past life, including all the techniques I mastered within it.” Hatake pauses, glancing over his shoulder and smiling. “They used to call me the man of a thousand techniques in that life.”  
A thousand techniques? That, that sounds pretty cool.

And clearly something speed related is one of them because the next moment, Izuku blinks and Hatake’s almost all the way back to where they started.

* * *

Shota is pissed. His students have been separated, he’s had to take down far more villains than he’s ever gone against in one sitting before and there’s still more coming. Nevermind the warper, the hand one, and the… creature-like being. So, yes, Shota is pissed. Pissed and worried and righteously furious. He's almost, _almost_, relieved when Hatake knocks the villain on his left out with a blunt force strike to the back of the head via sword handle. The kid hums and though he looks no worse for wears, he carries a still water scent. The shipwreck zone then.

“I told you to help the others,” Shota grunts, spinning to incapacitate another while keeping his eyes on the one that’s trying to flex his fingers for a quirk. As such, he completely misses whatever Hatake does to take down seven of the lot, witnessing only the aftermath of wires and more shuriken. Bloody ninja moves; where the hell did this kid crawl out of? Obviously, it’s to do with the quirk, but hey-

“No, no, no!” I am not leaving without causing some damage!” It’s handsy, snarling and near screaming at the one with the warp quirk. Deranged and dangerous, the severed hands are worrying enough on their own, but his mindset (given the fact he’s wearing them like accessories) is what’s troubling Shota more. He doesn’t want the villain anywhere near his students. If he’s the leader with a childish attitude like that, then chances are good his quirk is a dangerous one. Too dangerous to allow him to escape. Given that they’d come here with the explicit goal of taking down the Symbol of Peace… well, Shota is good, but he’s certainly no All Might.

“Nomu! I don’t like Eraserhead’s. Get rid of him.” And then, the fucking thing moves.

Shota curses, taking the punch to the gut and going down hard, a blow to the head following. A quick glance up as screams come from the opposite direction the villains show the majority of 1A has made it back, all looking a bit more battled than they should have done on a fucking rescue training trip. Gritting his teeth, Shota looks up to the hulking beast that’s pinned him.

Just in time to see a hand blast through the thing’s chest.

Shota stares, taking in the fingerless black glove, the crackle of white-blue lightning that still echoes around those fingertips as the Nomu screeches, near drowning out the chirping of a thousand birds (it’s not human, it’s not bleeding, is it even alive?).

Then, Hatake’s hand is gone and Shota only has a moment to register that he’s getting pulled away, head still ringing from the force of the blow.

“It’s not human, it didn’t bleed and it didn’t register the pain. Some kind of regenerative quirk. This thing is supposed to take down All Might… Maa, I guess I have no choice.”

Now Shota would have dearly liked to tell Hatake to get the hell out of the fight, to tell him he was just a student and that he needed to get the hell out and away. Help would be coming, he’d heard the warp villain inform handsy that one had gotten away. Only, he’s a bit distracted by the way the air is rippling around the creature. It fluctuates and then, like a plughole had somehow been torn into the fabric of the universe, the beast is sucked up and away. There’s nothing left but empty space and two dozen or so people staring. All but Shota, who looks to the one person who’d been talking prior to that.

Hatake’s headband is up, his left eye uncovered and it’s red, spinning with a questionable pattern expanding from the pupil. He takes careful note of the scar that bisects through the eyeball, something to discuss later when there aren’t any villains around.

Villains that aren’t doing anything at the moment.

When Shota glances up, he can’t help the slight smirk that touches his lips at the sight of handsy. The villain’s mouth is open, his shoulders slack and (if Shota were to guess what lay under the hand on his face) he’s staring. It’s as if he’s stopped working, like he can’t compute what has just happened. Not that Shota is any better. Not only can Hatake warp (and, untimely, the thought of why the fuck the little brat is always late crosses his mind) but he’s smoothly removed the biggest bad the villains had brought along with them and stuffed it who knows where.

God, Shota hopes the kid had enough sense not to drop it anywhere unwise.

The warp villain looks to his companion, his behaviour increasingly nervous but handsy seems to be beyond words, to be beyond action of any kind.

Good.

Let the Wonderboy fuck them over too; at least they deserve it.


	5. In which Kakashi freely admits he’s Op’ed as hell

It takes the villain a moment to build up to it but, when he does explode, it’s a tantrum of epic proportions. It’s almost reminiscent of pre-training-trip Naruto; Kakashi’s getting the warm and fuzzies from the flashback it offers. Yet, this guy is no cute, runty blond. Plus, Naruto’d never do something so trashy as to walk around with severed hands all up his arms and on his face. Does that not compromise his field of vision? Surely it must do?

“-a cheat! It has to be a cheat! A glitch that shouldn’t-”

Yeah, Kakashi’s gonna go right ahead and ignore that rant right there. Scratching at the back of his neck, he draws the headband back down over his eye, focusing on the two villains that remain. Kamui is out; it still takes far too much out of him to do it more than once and that thing had been big. 

Man, he hopes the bastard thing isn’t running riot in the other dimension. He keeps his best porn in there. 

“I’m not leaving without causing some damage!” And then Handy is rushing him. 

Kakashi intercepts the first punch, shifting the arm up and away from his body. The fingers brush against the braces on his forearm and then they’re just, not there anymore? 

Disengaging with a solid kick to the fucker’s chest, Kakashi gets a bit of breathing room to better assess the situation. Right, disintegration quirk then, perhaps a full five finger touch to activate. Easy enough to solve, he just needs to lop off a digit or two. 

Drawing his tantō, Kakashi swings the blade around into a reverse grip, eyeing the man he’s now relatively certain was behind the security breach. Dusted armguard, dusted front gate; it makes sense. 

Two things happen in the same breath then; All Might arrives and the warper decides things have become too dangerous to continue with. 

There’s a still silence between them all now; Aizawa on the floor, All Might switching admirably quickly from ‘defeat the villain’ to ‘aid the casualties’, and the students gawking at him. Huh, some more have made it back to them. 

It’s the explosive one (Bakugo, was it?) that sums it all up.

“What the actual FUCK?!” 

* * *

Well, that could have ended far worse than it actually did and, though it stings a little that the turning point of the whole situation rested upon the shoulders of a fifteen-year-old child, Shota is mature enough to move beyond that with out a little griping. All of the students are shaken up by the experience, especially given what they witnessed happen to Thirteen. They’d all been dropped in the deep end, sink or swim (in Midoriya and Asui’s case, it’d been quite literal) to fight against villains. He’s proud that they all managed well (though some more so than others), that they’ve handled themselves as true heroes in training would.

Then, then there’s Hatake.

It’d been a split-second decision to send him after the ones warping away; he knows the brat’s quick simply because he managed to avoid the warper’s technique. Based on the report Midoriya gave him, it’s a good thing he did; it’d have been a lot harder for the other two to escape the shipwreck zone without him, though Shota doesn’t doubt the two would have succeeded in the end. He’s left Hatake for last, both so he can get the full story from the two with him, and both so he can organise his own thoughts on the matter. Objectively, he’d known Hatake’s quirk had a lot of potential, not that he’d shared more than ‘I was a fighter in the other life’ and ‘I’ve a couple techniques under my belt’. As far as Shota’s concerned, a thousand is significantly different to ‘a couple’. Bloody brat.

Hatake slouches into the cushions of the sofa, head against the back support and single eye closed. He’s removed the arm-guards, sword, chest-plate and what Shota is relatively certain was a weapons pouch. Without the armour, he’s clothed in a simple pair of black trousers and a sleeveless tank-top to which the mask is attached (how?). For Hatake, it’s a remarkably casual look.

He’s almost spotted the swirl-like tattoo on his arm which he’ll be speaking to the brat about later. Once he’s got his statement on the god-damn villain attack.

Today has been a shit day.

“Right, Hatake. Quick questions, then we’re both going to go home and spend the rest of the day pretending the last three hours never happened.” They can deal with the potential trauma tomorrow.

Hatake hums, sole eye sliding open to stare at him. It’s slate grey, nothing like the other one he keeps beneath his headband. No glowing red, now pattern that moves and changes; just a normal eye. He’s got so many questions but he’ll stick to what’s most pressing.

“What happened to the creature Handsy brought with him?”

The kid actually giggles at the nickname but Shota can’t be bothered to call Shigaraki by name. It’s a false one anyway; clearly the warper knew what he was doing. Why he’s allowing a tantrum throwing brat to run the operations, Shota doesn’t know. He does know that Shigaraki has an incredibly dangerous quirk; it’s lucky he never actually got a hold of Hatake’s arm. That arm guard had become dust terrifyingly fast.

“It’s in my pocket dimension.”

“It’s- what.” Shota stares at the brat, mentally praying for patience. He knows All Might and Nezu are listening in on this; the principle had recommended he be the sole presence to question them because trust issues may have developed as a result of the attack. They didn’t want the kids any more uncomfortable than what they already were, apparently.

“Maa, I can suck things into a pocket dimension that’s located in my eye,” Hatake explains, lazily gesturing to the hidden gateway to another world that apparently rests in his skull as if it’s nothing of true consequence, “it’s harder to take shit out though.”

“But you could get the creature out,” Shota asks, forefinger and thumb pinching at the bridge of his nose. His eyes still sting from overusing his quirk but his eyedrops are at home and he’s not been able to go retrieve them. After all, he’s never once had to overuse his quirk while filling his role as a teacher.

“Yep~” The kid’s eye curves into the soft upside-down ‘u’, the muscles beneath the mask distorting beneath the weight of a smile Shota can’t see. This is ridiculous; he needs to move on from this line of questioning before he just gives up the ghost entirely. They can always catch Hatake tomorrow to get the creature out. While they’re in a heavily guarded room. With a few other heroes for back-up. Like All Might, Mr. Powerhouse himself.

“Any other questions, or am I free to go?”

“I’ve got so many questions for you, Hatake, that’d I’d probably keep you here all night if I could ethically get away with it. Predominately about your quirk and the past life you recall but keep so tightly locked up.”

“But I’m only a sweet fifteen years old, sensei. I need my beauty sleep.” Tch, as if that matters to the brat that never removes the facemask. He’s probably got tan lines from the thing. Hell, Shota wouldn’t be surprised to find out Hatake sleeps in it.

“Don’t think I didn’t notice you went for a kill-shot.”

At that, Hatake does sit up, eye fully open to give Shota his full attention. He spreads his legs slightly, feet planted firmly on the floor, elbows on his knees and fingers laced together. With the slight slouch, he looks far more serious. This’ll be his hero press conference face, that much is clear. This is serious Hatake. How lovely to finally meet him off a villain-infested battlefield.

“That thing isn’t alive; the heartbeats were too slow and there wasn’t any brain activity going on up there. Our bodies run on electricity and energy; I can sense that energy to some extent and that thing… It isn’t human, not anymore. Usually, a hit to the heart would put something like that down but…” Hatake trails off, shrugging his shoulders, the muscles beneath his pale skin coiled too tightly to be truly relaxed. “Next time, I’ll go for the head.”  
“Next time, you’ll leave it to us,” Shota snaps in a tone that offers no chance for arguments. Hatake opens his mouth to do so anyway, but Shota makes sure to brutally cut him off. “No. Hatake, I’m serious. If you’re going to be a hero, you cannot go around mercilessly decapitating things. Even if they are ‘undead’-” he supresses the irritation that he’s had to use such a word in a serious conversation. “- it doesn’t matter. Public opinion counts for a hell of a lot more than it should and those creatures appear too human-like for anyone to be comfortable with it.”

They sit for a moment, Shota blinking in a vain attempt to give his eyes that greatly needed moisture, Hatake relaxing his chin onto the weave of his fingers.

“Do you understand?”

“Yeah, Aizawa-sensei.”

“Now, how did you know you could safely warp that thing away?”

“It’s called Kamui. I can warp things to the pocket dimension but something that big I can only do once a day; I just don’t have the energy for it… I know I can do it because that’s where I keep my reading material.”

“What.”

Hatake grins again, lifting his headband to expose the scarred eyelid. Shota gets his first good look at the pupil beneath when it flutters open. It’s red, with a black three-point pattern that twists outwards from the centre. The world distorts before it and then Hatake’s holding a book.

Another one of his fucking porn books.

Shota’s scarf snaps out, ripping the literature (if it could even be called such a thing) from the kid. He pouts. Or, Shota assumes he does beneath that mask. Shoving the book to a side to be later thrown into lost property (where it will forever remain lost), he moves onto the next question.

“Right. Were you injured in any way and do you need some counselling as a result of today’s events?” Yaoyorozu and Iida, as the most sensible students of 1A had agreed instantly. The other three he’d personally thought would benefit from it had been pushed towards it. But Shota doesn’t think Hatake needs it. Not for this. Oh, undoubtedly the brat has a lot to unpack, but now isn’t the time, nor is it his place to do so for anything outside of today’s incident. No, he’ll have to pass his own opinion on to Nezu and allow the principle to take that matter further.

“Pass. Is that all, Aizawa-sensei?”

“I need a written report on what happened; consider it training for when you become a Pro.” Though he highly doubts the report will arrive on time, given the brat can’t even seem to turn up to class on time. Hell, he’s already considering kidnapping the brat pre-summer camp in order to make sure he’s there at the bus on time.

“Report, got it.”

“Knock, knock!” The cheery chime interrupts their quick stare off, Aizawa twisting to look at the new arrival with raised eyebrows. Hatake’s emergency contact had simply been filled in as ‘Keigo’, no family name. With how hard Hawks works to keep his real name under wraps, it’s a surprise he’s offered up one of them. Though, it could always be a false one.

He’s only half-surprised the other Pro is Hatake’s emergency contact; they’re both known to have bene picked up by the Hero Commission. Still, that the other has cares enough to act as that ‘adult’ in Hatake’s life is reassuring; the kid has some bonds out of the tentative one he’s forging with Todoroki (and there’s a whole other box to unpack there).

“Hawks? Ah, you called in my responsible adult?” Hatake drawls, scratching at the back of his neck, shaggy silver hair swaying lazily with the motion.

“Yeah, they did; by government rules, you’re still a kiddo. And you schooled some villains apparently. Let’s go, dinner on me.”

“Good, I could really go for some eggplant-mixed miso.”

“Nice try, Kid. I’m paying, so it’s my restaurant tonight.”

“But I survived a horrid, mentally-scarring villain attack. Comfort food would only aid me now.”

“And I saved seventeen lives today; soup isn’t gonna fill me up.”

The tow continues down the corridor, each trying to out-bullshit the other and that solves another mystery Shota never wishes he’d been exposed to. Hawks has an attitude because Hatake has an attitude. Or the other way around. Who knows. Shota doesn’t care right now.

He’s finished with his last interview and he can think over the conclusions the information will lead to while he’d bathing his eyes in moisturiser.


	6. In which Endeavour discovers a bad influence.

Lips twisting up into a cruel grin, Endeavour leaps from the pavement to the building’s side, melting footholds into the surface as he continues his chase. It’ll all be over soon, not that there had ever been any hope for the criminal when it came to outrunning him. After all, he has the greatest number of arrests, the best track record. There have been hundreds before this one, many far more skilled. Certainly, with better quirks; spring-legs, what a ridiculous power. 

He takes the corner hard by ricocheting off the building to the east, dropping back to standard ground level. He can see the fear in the thief’s eyes, the realisation that he’s going to be caught. Still, he tries uselessly to escape, leaping up and away, towards the fire escape of a nearby residential building. 

Then he goes down. Hard.

Endeavour stops, fire still blooming around his feet and steadily melting footprints into the pavement as he stares.

Unbelievably, a window had opened up in the thief’s path, allowing the fleeing criminal to knock himself out of the thick glass panel. A teenager, no older than his masterpiece of a son, leans out the open window to better peer down at the low-life now unconscious on his fire escape. With a casual nonchalance that looks sensationally out of place on such a lazy looking individual, the boy climbs out and pulls a roll of... a roll of professional-grade capture tape from his pocket and begins leisurely tying the criminal’s hands behind his back with a practiced ease. 

What. The. Fuck.

No, that one’s his capture, lucky window-knock-out or not.

Stomping over, Endeavour stops just below the fire escape, flames flaring that little bit more to capture the brat’s attention.

He doesn’t even glance his way. 

Instead, once he’s done ensuring the criminal is tied to the fire-escape with an admittedly impressive capture-tape restraint, the teen clambers back inside without so much as a ‘by your leave’. 

Grunting at the blatant dismissal, Endeavour reaches for the drop-down ladder, pulling it down with a harsh jerk of his arm. The metal slams into the ground and he clambers up, careful to keep the flames around his wrists and feet tempered to an acceptable level. Melting a fire escape would show poor control. 

He plans to bark at the brat, plans to rip into him about what is right and correct of him as a citizen and remind him to not get in the way of a hero’s job. But, when he looks into the apartment, it’s not just the lazy brat that stares back at him.

There’s a phone on the coffee table that’s ringing on speaker with the teen standing over it, looking at him in blatant confusion. Dressed in a loose tank-top and with a bowl of popcorn in his lap, Shouto is slouched on the sofa right next to the miscreant and appears just as surprised to see Endeavour as Endeavour is to see him. 

Of course, given the events of the previous day, UA had given their students a day off so those that required recovery time could receive professional help (ha). He had expected Shouto to spend that time getting ahead of his classmates.

Instead, he finds his long awaited, rebellious masterpiece in a downtown apartment, dressed with the clear intention of a day’s relaxation and watching day-time TV. It’s not even a hero related program.

“Shouto!” Endeavour thunders when he finally connects the sight of his son where he shouldn’t be to the thought of where he should be. 

Shouto stares back at him, shoves his hand into the bowl of snacks, and then purposefully deposits the handful into his mouth, chewing slowly. 

That’s the point where the phonecall connects and a half-familiar voice fills the room. 

“Hatake. Dare I even ask.”

“Yo, Tanema-kun! I’ve got a guy unconscious on my fire escape and I’m pretty sure fleeing a hero qualifies this guy as a criminal, so-”

“I swear- you brat! I can’t wait ‘till the day they give you your sodding provisional, I’m sick of collecting all your ‘citizen arrests’- I’ll be there in five. Have a pen ready for the usual forms.” The call cuts after that. Evidentially a police officer, one long familiar with this ‘Hatake’. A Hatake who must be on the UA Hero is course, given the mention of a provisional and Shouto’s presence. 

Disgruntled at the sudden theft of his arrest, Endeavour folds his arms, eyeing the slip of a brat that stands in the apartment. He’s got good muscle tone, though he’s shorter than Shouto. A mask covers the lower half of his face, a scar bisects his closed left eye and a mass of spiky silver hair falls messily to the left of his head. 

“Maa, who’s this, Todoroki-kun?”

Who- Who’s this?! Who does this brat think he is?!

Shouto continues to chew his mouthful of non-nutritious junk food, staring him right in the eye, before he turns to look at this ‘Hatake’.

“That’s my old man, the Number Two Hero.” 

What kind of rock is Hatake living under to be in the Heroics course and yet be completely ignorant as to who Endeavour is? 

The teen stares at him with his half-hooded, grey eye, head tilting to a side. 

“Ah. I thought top heroes were supposed to be quick at catching criminals.” He rubs at the back of his neck in a blatant show of disrespect and it takes everything Endeavour has to not step through into the apartment and wrangle the brat into seeing just why he’s a ‘top hero’. What an annoying little shit. 

“Shouto. Who is this.”

“Hatake’s in my class. Hatake, meet Endeavour.” Not one syllable of that sentence had a pinch of respect in it. After that utterly lacking introduction, Shouto’s already turned his eyes back to the TV screen and the couple arguing before a live studio audience. 

“And why,” Endeavour continues, feeling himself seethe as he forces the words out from between his clenched teeth, “are you here.” Instead of at home, training, as he is supposed to be doing. 

“I’ve decided Todoroki-kun needs a friend,” pipes up Hatake, running a hand through his wild hair as he gathers up a handful of popcorn for himself. Endeavour must blink; one moment the little snot’s got a handful of food, the next he’s chewing with empty palms brushing down his relaxed fit pants. The mask hasn’t moved an inch. 

What?

“So, I’m teaching him how to be a friend; like how friendship includes watching trash television together and certainly not waking those friends at four in the morning for a six-mile race with a game of rock-paper-scissors every fiftieth step.”

As much as Endeavour would dearly, dearly like to respond to that by declaring this little shit unworthy of ‘friendship’ (ha!) with Shouto and dragging his masterpiece back home to train, he’s beaten to the punch by the arrival of a police officer unlocking the front door with his own key.

“So help me, Hatake, I am retiring before you go Pro.”

* * *

Waking up mid-kidnapping was not how Shouto had expected to begin his day, but that’s how it’d gone down. Given how bony Hatake’s shoulder is, it’s a miracle the other hand managed to carry him right to the entrance to his apartment building before Shouto had woken up. When he’d questioned the state of affairs, Hatake had cheerfully admitted that they would be partaking in some ‘friend-bonding’ activities on their day off. Which apparently meant watching trash television that he’s sure Natsuo would love and ‘throwing shade’ about the situations. Not that Shouto’s particularly sure what ‘throwing shade’ means, but he’s sure he’ll pick it up from Hatake as the day progresses. 

Endeavour showing up has put a bit of a dampener on things, though the way he can’t seem to get a word in edgeways is amusing.

Leaning back into the comfortable cushions on the couch (he can see why everyone has these in their homes, when he gets his own apartment, that’ll be the first thing he buys, after a bed), Shouto watches his old man steam outside the window. Fire licks at the corners of his shoulders and he looks like he dearly wishes to clamber inside and make it clear to Hatake what respect means. Only, Shouto’s rather certain Hatake knows what it means to show respect. He just has no reason nor cause to respect Endeavour. It’s a beautiful thing to see.

“Maa, Endearment? Why were you chasing this guy?” Hatake’s got one form held up before his face, peering at the words on it and Shouto leans towards his friend (he… he has a friend now, even if it appears more like Hatake has plucked him up and made the decision for it) to get a better look at the paper. He doesn’t outwardly show his amusement that Hatake has, undoubtedly purposefully, mistakenly called Endeavour by the wrong name. But it does warm his stomach that little bit.

“It’s Endeavour,” his father growls, flames flaring that little bit more in an intimidation tactic that Shouto knows won’t work on Hatake in the slightest. Given how he’d seen the other perform yesterday against that hulking villain he’d warped away (what is Hatake’s quirk? Lightning hand and warping doesn’t have a clear connection), Shouto isn’t too surprised by it. “There’s no need for you to fill out these forms. I was in pursuit-”

“Endeavour-san? If I may, it’s probably in your best interests to just leave this be. I’ve already called it in at the station and Hatake’s got something of a reputation to the point we’ve got a system for dealing with his ‘citizen arrests’. It’ll be quicker for all of us if we just finish this up.”

His father exhales and a stream of fire comes out with the breath. A small one, true, but a stream all the same. Though Shouto knows he’s in for the training session from hell when the man gets home tonight, it might actually be worth it to have the privilege of watching this.

His father quickly snaps off exactly what the criminal had been doing and Shouto watches as Hatake scribbles it all down so that, when the paper is tilted to the left and held at a thirty-degree angle, it may actually pass as someone’s handwriting. Horrendous handwriting that’d make Fuyumi weep, but handwriting all the same. Shouto’s rather glad he’s not asked to make a statement; right now, his father seems to be under the impression it was pure luck that Hatake opened the window into the criminal. He rather suspects Endeavour would be quite upset to learn they both stood watching the chase from the other window in the room (Hatake’s got a corner apartment and he’s very happy he can see out in two directions, or so he says), before Hatake had declared he had could take the criminal down with a tenth of the energy required. And, well, he hadn’t been wrong.

Getting him to knock himself out on how own against a window had been rather anticlimactic though.

Regardless, Shouto knows not to get too close to building when in pursuit now unless it’s unavoidable. If this same thing happens to him, he’s rather certain Hatake would laugh.

Huh. He can almost see what the other would find funny about it too.

* * *

He has no idea why the hero is still here.

Tilting his head to a side so that his mane of hair flops over the left eye, Kakashi watches as Endeavour continues to glare holes into his head, as he has done so since Tanema-san left thirty seconds ago. He’s waiting for something but, for the life of him, Kakashi cannot even begin to guess what.

(Though with the way Todoroki acts, the way his old man acts, it’s painting a frighteningly clear picture in his mind)

“Well, if that’s all, it was a pleasure to help out, Endemic-san. We’ll let you get back to your patrol now.” Grinning, Kakashi makes for the window, ready to slam it closed and continue training Todoroki on exactly how a friend show act (nipping this concept of ‘rivalry’ in the bud. He’s gonna get cracking on the explosive one next who had spent the journey back from USJ seething). But the hero catches the frame in one large hand, scowl still on his lips and the flaming facial hair just looks weird. If he wants to disguise how his face looks, he should just invest in a mask. Far more reasonable and less attention grabbing.

“Shouto. Go home. You have training to complete.” Well, this is a first. It’s been a long, long time since Kakashi has been flat out ignored to his face. Scratching at the back of his neck, he eyes up Endeavour again, lips thinning. He had really hoping it wouldn’t come to this, but this is a lovely piece of evidence and Kakashi has only ever really needed one to act.

“Nope~” he cuts in with a chime, shifting to the left to block Endeavour’s view of Shouto (he’s Shouto now, can’t call him Todoroki when he shares that name with this asshole. “I’ve decided. I’m adopting Shouto-kun. He’s my child and I’ll train him from now on. Good day.” Quick as a flash (as The Flash), Kakashi dislodges Endeavour’s fingers from the window frame, slams it closed, and then drops the blinds. The thin gaps between the blinds lights up orange as the hero’s flames flare but Kakashi’s beyond caring. He’s far more emotionally stable than the last time he got thrown in with a lot of kids that were treated badly and needed a semi-paternal figure. Shouto doesn’t need a paternal figure but hey, he’s got an older brother now. A sempai, whatever he wants.

The kid’s still staring at him, his mismatched eyes (naw, they match!) wide and lips parted ever so slightly.

“If you do wanna do some training, there’s a gym on the ground floor we can go to and I can drill you in hand to hand. No offense, Shouto-kun, but if Heroics class was your best, you kinda suck at that.” He’s still getting stared at.

Eh, he’ll give him a minute to wrap his head around what happened, then he is dragging Shouto down to the gym. Because Kakashi’s not lying, the kid’s hand to hand does suck. But so does a lot of people’s compared to him. Hell, Hawks’ had only got so good because he’s had the Kakashi-special too.

Ah, it’ll almost be like having genin again.


	7. In which Hawks gives Kakashi a new enemy to face

“What the-”

At the exclamation, Kakashi lifts his head from his arms, peering blearily out towards the door. The hallway is packed, and not even in that whole ‘the bell’s gone and it’s lunch time, last one there’s getting scraps’ kind of way. No, this is a ‘there’s people inside this room we wanna phase and we’re not moving until we do’ kind of packed. He remembers it well from his time at the academy; he hadn’t reacted until they’d physically tried to stop him leaving. Then, Kakashi had wiped the floor with all of them.

“What’s going on?” One of his fellow classmates, the pretty pink one, asks, rising to her feet. Quite frankly, Kakashi’s more than happy to ignore the whole thing. What with this whole Sports Festival thing coming up, he would much rather mentally prepare for that clusterfuck. Hey, it’s a festival where they’re trying to sell themselves (as future heroes as opposed to the deadly-killing machines that Kakashi had been aiming for in his last big spectator sport), the last one he attended when tits up so he’s got low expectations.

“consider this a declaration of war.” War huh? Rising to his feet, Kakashi makes for the door, stepping around the gathering of his own classmates to better look at what awaits them outside the door. Ah, it seems like everyone is here. How cute. Tilting his head to a side, Kakashi meets the eyes of the purple haired one at the front, along with the loud one at the back yelling about being from Class 1B.

“Tch, I’m heading for the top, I don’t care what you extras think.”

“As much as I hate to agree with Boom-Boom-Pop here,” Kakashi muses, jabbing a thumb dangerously close to Bakugo’s mouth (he’s not too worried about it, he’s had his tetanus shot) as he scans the crowd, “he’s right. You want to beat us? Fine. But don’t expect us to hold back.”

“Hatake-brat.” A pinch grip comes down hard on his ear and Kakashi allows the hold to drag him back and away from the door. He glances up to Aizawa, waiting for the rest of the reprimand. “Don’t dare start stirring up trouble as if you’re not planning to scrape by on the skin of your teeth in the whole thing.”

“Maa, how did you know?” Kakashi grins, eye curving before he peels them up to better look at his current sensei.

“It’s exactly what you’d do. I’m here to tell you that is not an option. I expect you to give it your all. After all, you are the student that took down the biggest villain at USJ.”

Kakashi twitches, a scowl forming beneath his mask. Looks like Aizawa’s decided to start playing his games. Singling him out before all the other students in the year is, as certain a lazy bastard would once say, troublesome. 

“Thanks for that, Sensei,” Kakashi drawls, even as his cute little kohai comes to stand beside him. Shouto’s got a series of bruises up his forearms from yesterday’s Kakashi special, but he must have learnt something from it, given he’d asked for a repeat. Ah, it’s cute. “Let’s get going, Shouto-kun.”

* * *

“Listen up, you smug masked-bastard,” Katsuki snarls, getting right into Hatake’s face with a snarl, hands clenched and sweat at the ready, “I’m gonna win this whole fucking festival, got it?” He grins, watching that single fucking eye blink, one, twice, then it closes into that fucking mockery of a smile.

“Maa, did you say something?”

“You bastard!” Katsuki reaches for the fucker’s uniform, fist clenching in the fabric just as another hand catches his wrist. For a second, he thinks it belongs to Hatake before he registers the glove is a soft black that covers the fingers, not the leather fingerless shit Hatake wears.

Katsuki’s eyes snap up to the one standing beside Hatake, eyes narrowing as he takes in the sight. The fuck, this is-

* * *

“Is that Hawks?!”

Rubbing at the back of his neck with his free hand, Hawks flicks his eyes from the blond that’d been in middle of threatening Kakashi (cute, as if he’d stand a chance against the wonderkid), to the rest of the 1A students that have gathered around them. He’s never seen the backstage stuff of a UA festival, what with having never participated in one himself. It’s funny how they all group off into their classes, though more than a few are looking his way now.

He lets go of Sparky-Sparky-Boom-Boom’s hand, slapping his now free hand onto Kakashi’s shoulder. Kid better not grow any more, there’s only an inch or so between them now. Not that height will mean much given his wings. If he needs the high ground over Kakashi for whatever reason, he’ll have it.

“Well, Kakashi. This is it. The start of your career in the media as a hero. You’re gonna go out there, keep that cool attitude going, the people like a hero they can trust. And your whole spiral of teamwork and ‘I’ll protect you with my life’ is a great selling point. Here!” Hawks digs his phone out from his pocket, wiggling his arm over Kakashi’s shoulder and spreading one red wing out behind him, in order to protect the identities of the other students taking part. He doesn’t have their agreement to take a photo right now, does he?

“Smile!”

Kakashi, like a good little brat, does exactly that, single visible eye curving up.

“Ah, that’s a good photo. The public’ll love it.” Hawks muses, uploading it with a quick tag of ‘at the Sports Festival, wishing the Little Bro good luck!’

“Wait, public?” Kakashi snatches the phone from his hand but by that point it’s already too late, uploaded and undoubtedly seen by a few hundred people in the first few seconds. Even if Kakashi deletes it, there’ll be copies making their round soon after. Too little, too late.

“Heh, you know, if you uncover that pretty face of yours, you’ll get a massive following, Little Brother.”

“Little Brother?!” The closest chorus, in clear shock and ouch, Kakashi’s never mentioned him to his classmates? Man, it’s almost like he’s ashamed of him or something.

Kakashi frowns, folding his arms and stepping back from under his arm to better glare at him. It’s cute but this little brat has put him through hell more than once. It’s beautiful, being on the other end of it all.

“Wait, you’ve seen under the mask?” It’s a redhead, probably from the same class as Kakashi given their proximity. “I’ve been watching this guy for weeks at lunch and I’ve never, never seen it come off! What’s he like? Big teeth? Is he covered in acne?”

“Acne?” Kakashi scoffs, arms folding across his chest with a bemused look on his face. Hawks pulls up the collar of his shirt so as to hide his smirk, looking away from the brat.

“Nah, none of that. ‘Kashi’s ridiculously pretty under that mask. Why, when we went out to Tokyo for dinner, he took off his mask and the waitresses wouldn’t leave him alone. He still gets the occasional love letter.” Half of the class giggle, more and more of the UA students looking over towards them, trying to be subtle about making their way over. And hey, the more the merrier. And if it means dishing out some brotherly embarrassment on Kakashi, well, even better!

* * *

“Your brother is Hawks? The Hawks?! Number Three Hero, Hawks?!”

Running a hand through is hair, Kakashi folds his arms and watches as Hawks all but basks in the attention that’s lavished on him, a small smile crossing his lips regardless of the hassle this’ll all cause him (so much for being an underground hero). It’s a good move in their ever-ongoing game of one-upmanship, ‘how much can I irritate you until you break’. All in good fun, of course.

But if Hawks wants to bring the media into it, then Kakashi’ll play along. He hopes the other is looking forwards to seeing his most embarrassing moments featuring on the web; Kakashi’s been collecting videos for years. Just is case.

“Yeah. Hawks’ my brother. Adopted, of course, what with my ‘no-name orphan’ status and all. All I can do is strive to live up to his amazing record, to keep trying and step out of the large shadow he casts.”

“I’m only an inch taller than you, you melodramatic brat,” Hawks points out, lips in an uneven frown, forefinger and thumb pinched by the left corner. “Well, good luck, ‘Kashi. I’ll be watching.”

Hawks makes his way to the balcony, leaping off. His large, red wings spread wide, carrying him up and away from the contestants’ room. Those that have already arrived in the audience burst into excited chatter at the sight of him. His flight is smooth, carrying up towards the presenter’s box. Of course, he’s going to be watching from nearby, why would Kakashi ever expect him to be sensible and not draw attention by watching from home? That would be silly.

“You share a close relationship with Hawks?” It’s Shouto, one of the few people that Kakashi doesn’t mind nosing into his personal life. After all, he’s already been exposed to the kid’s, what with his dad and all. Turn about is fair play and all, isn’t it? Plus, if Shouto’s gonna be his little kohai, then there needs to be some trust between them.

“The Hero’s Commission took us both in when we were young, we’ve grown up together. Years of training, trusting one another, working together as teammates in whatever task we’ve been set; Hawks’ said we’re brothers, so, yeah.” Shrugging his shoulders, Kakashi adjusts the headband on his forehead, until it lays flat and exposes his other eye. He doesn’t plan on opening it, not yet anyway. He gets the feeling that Aizawa will have his head is he warps one of the other students away for a bit. It’s not like it’d kill them; Obito’s other dimension is filled with emergency supplies (he never knows when he’ll need them, after all) and he had deposited the Nomu yesterday with trusted UA staff before he’d collect Shouto from his house. As for how he’d found out where Shouto lived… the UA security system was better than many he’d seen, but it wasn’t ninja-proof. Kakashi had made sure to put the files back where he’d found them, so it was all good.

“So, you’ve been training for this your whole life too,” Shouto says, quiet and low. Kakashi flicks his gaze over to the other, worrying his lip back and forth between his teeth.

“Yes. But I knew my limitations, I had knowingly stepped into this life and knew when to stop, when to take a break… Maa, based on the look you’re wearing, I assume that isn’t something you got to experience.”

“All students, proceed to the entrance tunnel in Class order.” The voice is electronic, emotionless. It quells the whispering students instantly. A harsh tension falls over them, heavy and suffocating. Even Kakashi can feel it; the urge to do well, to perform to the best of his abilities. He beats in back with practiced ease, shoulders rolling and muscles relaxing. He doesn’t need to be the best, just do well enough to get to the next round. He’s prepared, there’s nothing that he cannot face and not handle. It’s only an exam for students, there’s no danger of permanent injury or death. Far from the worst thing he’s ever handled. After the villain attack, it’ll no doubt be a walk in the park for him. In fact, this whole thing will work more as an information gathering opportunity for him. After all, he needs to find Shouto-kun a sparring partner that’ll be more on his level to stoke the fires of that friendly competition. He’s already got Bakugo for the unfriendly fires. It’s just a job of cracking into his tough outer-shell.

He sets his eyes on the blond in question, watching the brat shiver.

Yeah, he’s got no idea what’s coming for his ass.

Ah, Kakashi’s missed being a sensei.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In which Hawks gives Kakashi a new enemy to face... the media (ง •̀_•́)ง


	8. In which Shigaraki reassess the game’s main characters.

“...and, as those of you with any social media presence will have realised in the last five minutes, 1A is also home to the adopted brother of Number Three Pro Hero Hawks. Though they may not be biologically related, the talent shows regardless. This is the kid that’s held the entrance exam record for a decade, taking the test when he was five years old!”

Tomura’s teeth grind together, the can in his hands (thankfully empty) crumbling to dust. He’s watching the screen, gathering intelligence and assessing his opponents. Their little spy had failed to mention that one, hadn’t they? Did they not think that a brat known to the UA staff as ‘wonderboy’ was important?

Ah, the idiot.

Scratching at the column of his neck, Tomura scowls over at the television screen, watching the gaggle of brats troop out. Ah, it’s awful, why are they so blatantly celebrated in their false roles? They’re a purge on society, ruining everything by following in All Might’s stupidly large footsteps, not caring in the least who they put down.

‘This thing is supposed to take down All Might… Maa, I guess I have no choice.’

That fucking brat. Hatake Kakashi. Urgh. What a bastard. Some asshole that’s got the cheatcode sheet, using and abusing it against others.

No, he can’t end up falling down that hole anymore; they’ve lost one Nomu because he underestimated the kid (because he didn’t have any fucking information). Not again. He’s going to learn everything about this little fucker and then…

Then he’s dust.

* * *

Stretching his arms above his head, Shouto twists his head to better look to Hatake who walks calmly along beside him. The other had taken one look at the regular PE uniform and ripped the sleeves from the top, done so neatly that it almost looks as if it was designed that way. Shouto squints at the other but Hatake just grins. Well, Shouto assumes by the curves of his eyes that he’s grinning. Though they’d allowed him to keep the mask, the judges had insisted on the removal of anything that could classify as a weapon, which include his metal headguard, the one that usually covered his eyes with the almost leaf-life design on it. Without it, his shaggy hair falls even more explosively to a side.

Huh, come to think of it, Bakugo’s hair was similarly styled… though that’s nowhere near as suspicious as Midoriya’s relations to All Might.

“-representing the First Years, Hatake Kakashi.” Well, that makes sense.

After hearing about it in class, Shouto had looked up the information UA had on record, that which his father had clearly ignored, if only because Shouto’s potential rivals within UA hadn’t been relevant 10 years ago when Hatake stormed the entrance exam.

Hatake climbs the stairs at his usual sedated pace, stopping by the microphone. With the way his head tilts back, hands digging deeper into his pockets, he’s the picture of nonchalance.

“Ah, I wasn’t aware I had to give a speech. I’m a little embarrassed I have nothing really prepared.”

Now, as far as Shouto can remember from watching a handful of these things back… back before his life had fallen apart, it wasn’t a speech, just a few choice words. Clearly Hatake has been given the wrong impression but, by this point, he’s removed the microphone from its cradle and actually sat himself down on the stage, scratching at his head.

“Hello. My name is Hatake Kakashi. I have some things I like, some dislikes, and, as for dreams… hmmm,” he trails off, rubbing at his masked chin in thought and Shouto waits patiently for whatever pearls of wisdom the other will impart; he’s not quite sure why everyone is staring so blatantly at Hatake though. Kirishima’s mouth is even hanging open.

“My hobbies are none of your business. And, well, in lieu of anything substantial to say, I’ll provide an extract from my favourite book.” Ah, now that will be a problem. Midnight hosting this is probably already pushing it for the watershed levels of acceptability. Shouto couldn’t get through reading a handful of lines of that particular book just looking over Hatake’s shoulder. Out loud on national television?

Present Mic’s voice roars to life in the same instant Hatake’s is cut off, their student representative slapping his palm on the mic a few times before seemingly giving up the ghost.

And then it’s announced that the first trial will be an obstacle course.

As he acquires is position by the starting line, Shouto stretches his calves one last time, brain whirling. His main competition in a flat-out race is Iida, though Yaoyorozu will be problematic if she’s given the time to create something. But this isn’t a normal race. There’ll be obstacles, problems to take down and, while Shouto doesn’t doubt his own firepower, the unknown can be relatively unsettling.

He will get through to the one-to-one fights; that’ll be the point where he can pitch himself against Midoriya. Against Hatake for a rematch. And he’ll be ready for the other’s tricks this time.

The doorway is the first obstacle and Shouto feels no shame is freezing the vast majority of the competition to the floor.

He’s not surprised in the least to look to his left and find Hatake jogging along, no worse for wear and with not the slightest hint of frost along his legs.

Tch. At least he knows who the main competition is in all of this. After all, dear old Dad is watching and, as delightful as it’d been to watch Hatake go head to head with the man, he can’t afford to show any deference to the other right now.

* * *

“Er, Aizawa? When is Wonderboy gonna do… well, anything?”

So far, it’s been Todoroki out of the starting line first, Todoroki taking down the robots, Todoroki tearing into the lead. And… and all Hatake has done is jog solidly along. Though, admitted, the rope bridges between the canyons hadn’t slowed him down in the slightest. His balance is exceptional, that much is clear.

“Hah. You could at least explain where his name has come from so it doesn’t seem as if we’re playing favourites.”

“Right right right! For those not in the know, Hatake has been on roll for UA since the age of five, when he dominated the entrance exam in his pint-sized form! For all that he’s hanging back now, this is the kid whose held the overall record of the UA entrance exam for a solid decade unchallenged! Is it any surprise that the UA staff have been calling him Wonderboy ever since?!” Mic pauses, seemingly basking in all the chatter he’s caused and Aizawa rolls his eyes, planting one elbow on the table and fist in his cheek.

“Well, Eraserhead, a little insider information if you will?!”

“Fine. Hatake’s perhaps the most talented UA student we’ve had since All Might himself. Even I don’t know the full extent of his powers; he keeps his secrets locked up tighter than Midnight’s costume.”

“Woah woah woah! Those are some serious secrets!” 

Aizawa hums in agreement; it's true, after all. Hatake's got a shit tone of secrets, the least of which is what he actually looks like under that thrice-cursed mask of his. Though he's nowhere near as invested as the students, Aizawa's wondered, has watched every so often when he's been passing by the cafeteria, but even he's failed to get a single glimpse. The kid has to be using his quirk to hide it. He’s not yet to the point where he tries activating Erasure to stop him but... perhaps in a few weeks.

“Now, Hatake’s quirk is on the registration as ‘Chakra’-”

“Give. Me. That.” Aizawa snatches the paper from Mic’s hands, staring down at it. Nope, it still says chakra. On his registration form from a decade ago (the one Aizawa has in front of him) it’d been ‘energy manipulation’. But, the one he’d had printed from the quirk registry says ‘Rebirth Recall’. 

That little shit. If he’s fucking with the actual registry, Aizawa doesn’t care how much he loves his secrets. He’ll drag him before a truth detecting police officer himself. 

“Oooooh! I have no idea what he’s done, but Wonderboy seems to be in trouble with his homeroom teacher! Ye-ouch!” 

* * *

Kakashi jogs into fifth place with remarkable ease. The minefield had been a piece of cake for one used to looking ‘underneath the underneath’. Noticing the upturned earth was a hell of a lot easier for him than any of the others. While he’d been hoping to place somewhere a bit lower, well, he’d take it.

He’s also eyeing up Midoriya because that had been some remarkable creativity there. The kind that’d have taken him far as a ninja. 

Pulling at the hem of the mask, Kakashi twists towards the cameras that’re documenting them for the big screen, pulling his best cutesy pose. Hawks wants to make the media a problem for him? Yeah, Kakashi can fire back. He’ll play it up for them, maybe even make himself the media’s little darling for a bit. 

He won’t be beat, not in a ‘who can fuck with the other best’ contest. 

“What the fuck, swirly eye?!” Ah, and there’s the explosive one.

Kakashi’s reminded remarkably of a particularly vicious puppy, what with all the pale, fluffy hair topping Bakugo’s head. He reaches out and pats it, easily stepping back and away from the other’s furious grab. A quick (and totally unnecessary backflip later) has his standing on the side of the stadium wall, scratching at the back of his head. 

“Maa, what’s the matter, ‘Splosion-kun?” 

“You fucker! Where was your shitty quirk in all of that, you bastard!” 

“Ah, my quirk is energy based, so I only have a set amount to use a day. I wanted to save it, and not use it unnecessarily.” 

“YOU’RE USING IT RIGHT NOW FOR NO REASON AT ALL, YOU PRETENTIOUS SHIT!” 

Kakashi knows this looks particularly impressive to those with no ninja training, but it’s always funny to wind them up. And Bakugo just makes it so damningly easy.

“Oi! You two, over there! Gather around!” Midnight’s whip cracks through the air and Kakashi takes a moment to pray for Jiraiya. The man would probably weep if he knew there was a woman running around like that in another dimension. Kakashi could see the potential Icha Icha spin off series already. 

Slinking back towards the crowd, Kakashi looks for the distinctive two-tones of Shouto’s hair, sliding up beside his cute little kohai. The other glances questioningly to him before returning his gaze back to the billboard, eyes narrowed. Ah, he came in second because of Midoriya’s stroke of genius. The fires of competitive spirit are up and being fanned. 

Man, he’s so, so glad Gai hadn’t been reborn too. There’s only so much rivalry one can take before the heart comes under strain, after all. 

Then, the match, the headband points, it’s all announced. 

And Kakashi, well, Kakashi has an idea. 

* * *

His team… well, his team is solid. He’s got Tokoyami as their front, Uraraka and the support girl, Hatsume. While he’d have liked to have snatched up Iida… His eyes glide over to look at the other standing by Todoroki’s side. That’s… that’s one team he’s worried about. Todoroki is strong, Iida quick and knows him well, while Yaoyorozu has an incredibly versatile quirk.

But it’s Hatake he’s worried about.

He’d have expected Todoroki to be the rider but it appears the other is going to act as the horse with Hatake on top.

Now, he’s the one Izuku’s worried about. His quirk… Izuku doesn’t know what his quirk is. There’s lightning manipulation, there’s the standing on the side of walls, and that’s not mentioning his hand to hand capabilities. He’d gotten through the first round without even using it! Not that Izuku has much to say on that end.

The countdown hits zero and Izuku gulps, feeling Tokoyami adjust his grip on his legs.

“Begin!” Midnight bellows, whip cracking and Izuku snaps his head towards the majority of the others. Already there’s something coming towards his face and Izuku flinches back, trying to kick Hatsume’s… babies into gear.

Only, it’s not the sticky ball of the General Ed student he’d seen piggy-backing off of Yaoyorozu in the race. It’s… it’s a cloth ball? Almost, almost the same colour as their uniform sleeves?

What?

Izuku blinks at the sudden puff of smoke and then it’s not a ball of cloth in front of him at all, but Hatake himself.


	9. In which Wonderboy secures first place.

Momo cannot quite hide her grin as the weight disappears from her hands, Hatake’s relaxed form replaced by the ball of cloth he’d thrown right at the start. His quirk is utterly ridiculous but, having listened to his strategy during their fifteen minutes prep time, she cannot believe she’d ever doubted him in the past. She can see the slight smirk to Todoroki’s face, even from this awkward angle. Hatake had crossed the space between them and Midoriya’s team ridiculously fast, having ‘substituted’ with the cloth-wrapped rock, the latter of which she’d provided. Now, he’s in the air, hand snapping out to snatch up the headband from Midoriya’s skull. Another flash of those strange hand formations and he’s back among them, rock dropping before the former Ten Million’s team.

“Hatake,” Todoroki snaps and their rider chuckles, ruffling the boy’s hair with his free hand.

“Maa, chill, Shouto-kun. I’ve got this.”

Now, Momo has never actually seen this part of Hatake’s quirk in action. In fact, she’d been unaware he was capable of it, given that they’d been separated so thoroughly during the USJ incident. It’s fascinating to see the swirl appear in the air, like a plughole sucking away water. Only, it’s the ten million headband that’s disappearing instead, right into a dimension that only Hatake can access.

Perfect.

“Woah woah woah! Is that even allowed?!” It’s Present Mic, bellowing it out as audience bursts into confused murmurs. Yaoyorozu hadn’t been too sure herself; she’s watched plenty of UA sports festivals in preparation for this, but there had never been a contestant with a warp quirk before. They’re exceedingly rare; it’s stunning that Hatake’s capable of it, even if he can only use it on others, not himself. Or so he says. At the moment, she’s taking everything he says with a pinch of salt.

“Well, Hatake’s using his quirk. As long as he can make the headband reappear by the end of the match, I’ll allow it!” The ruling is followed up by the sharp crack of a whip, Midnight shifting her weight to one side as she declares her verdict.

“Well, I do suppose that is our place for the next round secured then?” Iida murmurs, looking remarkably underwhelmed. Momo can sort of relate; it’s exactly how she’d felt upon learning of the method behind Hatake’s victory against Todoroki back in their first hero class. Though, it does seem the other isn’t holding too big a grudge, given they’d paired up almost right away. It is good to see the cold boy from her recommendation group reaching out.

“YOU SHITTY MASKED BASTARD! SPIT UP THAT FUCKING HEADBAND!” It’s Bakugo. How uncultured.

Above her, Hatake huffs, hands flashing between more of those strange hand gestures (is that something relevant to his quirk? She should be watching him closely, given there’s a solid chance they will be facing off against each other now).

“Hold strong, Shouto-kun.” Hatake swings around Todoroki like a fireman’s pole, one hand slamming down onto the ground and then, there’s an earthquake. No, not an earthquake, but walls of earth rising up, thicker than a car and four times as tall. Once they stop rising, Momo notices the series of holes along the bottom six feet, her lips pursing into a frown for it doesn’t seem like Hatake to make such a rookie mistake. She catches on the moment Todoroki lifts his hand and then there’s thick sheets of ice there, filling the gaps but leaving them as viewing windows with which to peer though. The only thing they need is a roof and then they’d be untouchable. Astounding.

“Well, I think we’re just about set now, right?”

* * *

Shota is going to ring Hatake’s neck when this is all over.

The brat’d showcased absolutely nothing in the first round other than his own athletic ability. Now… now there’s some kind of super-speed teleport/switch technique, earth manipulation and, of course, that warp quirk. Not to mention the lightning and sticking to the walls thing. It’s a given that Hatake’s team will go through, as they not only retain their own headbands, but that of the hastily stolen ten million. And they’re not letting anyone get even remotely near.

So far, only Bakugo has gotten close to blasting through the earth wall, all the other sensible teams having given up after the headband had been warped, stored in Hatake’s own pocket dimension. No, Bakugo had continued blasting away, Ashido melting stone with her acid. It’d lasted all of fifteen seconds before their combined attacks, but the opening had been swiftly closed. Not before Hatake had launched a jet-powered spray of water out from the hole, blasting Team Bakugo to the edge of ring as Todoroki plugged the gap.

They’re showing brilliant teamwork and now it’s Hatake that’s really shining. Todoroki too. Neither Yaoyorozu or Iida are standing idle either, the former creating the multitude of weapons Hatake had been barred from bringing along, Iida watching for cracks to direct Todoroki to. There’s only two minutes left on the clock and no one has come close to touching Hatake’s team.

“Yo yo yo! Though he was slow out of the box, Hatake seems to have fortified himself for the sake of his team. Man, what is this kid’s quirk?! We can’t see his face, we’ve no idea of what he’s truly capable of, argh! Nothing makes sense!”

Well, at least he’s frustrating everyone else. That’s a comfort.

* * *

Shinso Hitoshi swallows, heart hammering in his chest as the last few seconds tick away. He’s got enough headbands; the mouthy 1B asshole that’s acting as his front horse was the only one he hadn’t needed to brainwash. Not after Hitoshi had explained his plan. He’d been banking on the other’s hatred of 1A but it was almost too much for him to handle. He hates it, hates proving those assholes from Middle School right. But, to have a hope in hell of actually getting through, he’d had to. Being dealt the cards he has, he’s got no other option.

And speaking of being dealt a good hand-

Hitoshi’s eyes flick towards the verifiable fortress that’s dominating the centre of their playing field.

Hatake Kakashi. The one that’d stood beside Bakugo and stated he wouldn’t be giving them any quarter. Though he’d done fuck all other than pass in the first round, well… now it’s a bit different, isn’t it?

Now that’s what society would dub a ‘hero’ quirk. Whatever the fuck kind of quirk it is. Is there even a quirk that’s so versatile? Something must be wrong with that one. An alien? No, can’t be. Government experiment gone wrong? Government experiment gone _right?_

Whatever the fuck he is, this bastard has just dominated the second event, leaving the rest of them to scrape by. The green haired one, one he hadn’t actually seen use a quirk yet, has enough to pass. As does the explosive bastard that’d tried breaching that fortress at the start. So, it’ll be the members of their teams against each other in the finally tournament. That… that’s less in line with what Hitoshi wants, given that once they’ve seen him use his quirk, it won’t take much to figure out how it’s activated. He’s got one potential win secure, but anything after that, well, it depends how smart his competition is.

And if he can get a word in edges ways, given how fast some of these hero students move.

Especially Hatake.

The bell goes. The show’s over, the second round is done and, despite doubts from all corners of his life (even the one Hitoshi himself occupies), he finds himself with a place in the final round. His legs feel weak with the relief of it all; he barely pays any attention when the fortress comes down and Hatake pops out, summoning up the winning headband without a care in the world. Lucky bastard. The hell kind of quirk does he have, anyway? It doesn’t make any sense; there’s too many different elements and he hates it. 

Hatake’s still waving the headband back and forth, clearly not listening to his tallest teammate and the rant the glasses wearing male is on. It’s strange, the shortest of the group is perhaps the biggest threat in this entire competition.

Even stranger is his attitude; the kid jams a single pinkie in his ear, wiggling it back and forth before he looks to Engine-Legs. Hitoshi isn’t sure what he says, but he can guess it’s along the lines of ‘did you say something’ given how Glasses reacts. He’d almost find it funny, if it were for the fact Hatake so clearly has a ‘heroic’ quirk. Hell, it might as well be an ‘everything’ quirk given what he’s seen the other do. It’s not fair but then life’s not known for being fair, is it? 

* * *

“Well, that was easy,” Kakashi muses, summoning the headband back into existence now that the bell has rung. They’ve won easily given Kamui. Blatant cheating? Perhaps. But that way, there hadn’t been any need for his team to overwork themselves and Kakashi is all about teamwork, isn’t he?

The hot glower that Spark-Boom-Boom is sending his way promises an explosive match if he doesn’t end up getting himself kicked out of the competition for aggressive behaviour; Kakashi offers him a cute little wave, smiling in order to watch the kid rev up that little bit more. It really is like early days Naruto. The buttons are just so obvious and oh so easy to push, almost like they’re flashing and flaring, begging him to press away.

“That element of your quirk does not tire you, Hatake?” It’s Iida, his head tilting to a side as he observes him, having cooled his jets from the rant Kakashi really hadn’t been listening to.

Ah, yeah. ‘Warp quirks’ aren’t common here, are they? It’s a shame, they’re so incredibly useful. There’s that one kid in Third Year with a quirk almost similar to Obito’s, but it doesn’t transport him into another dimension. Just make shift to ‘untouchable’… Kakashi could still probably take him. He’d… he’d managed with Obito, hadn’t he? And this Third Year won’t have any ninja tricks like him.

“Nah, not for the small stuff.” Though he probably shouldn’t use it again today.

Kakashi whips their winning headband back and forth, blatantly ignoring how it almost slaps Sparky in the face as he storms by, biting a snarling threat to him that Kakashi only eye-smiles in response to. He waves Momo and Iida away, throwing one arm over Todoroki’s shoulders (the height thing isn’t looking too promising here; a lot of people are tall and Kakashi’s getting a terribly feeling he’s going to end up like Keigo, being on the shorter side of things. The thought is… distressing. He’s having to stretch from his usual slouch to keep his arm over Todoroki’s shoulders as it is.

“Maa, Shouto-kun, should we get some food?” Kakashi asks, following his little kohai’s line of sight to find Endeavour watching them, flaming beard and all, from the stands. Well, he can’t let that imposing asshole put his cute little kohai off like that, can he?

Standing on his tiptoes, Kakashi stretches his arm high and waves towards the Number Two Hero (he’s not incompetent, he knows the big players. But it’s so much more fun if people don’t know that).

“Hello, Endermic-san!” Shouto’s shoulder shake ever so slightly under his weight for a moment before Kakashi finds himself being almost hustled off of the field. Naw, is Shouto really trying to ruin his fun like this? It would appear so.

“I want cold soba,” Shouto grunts, but he’s no longer focused on his old man, so Kakashi will count it as a win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You don't know how close I came to having Kakashi steal literally everybody's headbands and Kamui them.   
The only reason it didn't happen is because I had 1/2 of this written when the idea hit and I back and forthed on it.

**Author's Note:**

> I make no promises about updates, but I actually finished the first chapter of it! Horrar!


End file.
